


Restoration

by scribblemoose



Category: Weiß Kreuz
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2003-03-06
Updated: 2003-03-06
Packaged: 2017-10-08 22:22:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,434
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/80093
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scribblemoose/pseuds/scribblemoose





	Restoration

_From burweed,  
such a butterfly  
was born?_

_Issa_

  
Ran's eyes moved slowly over Yohji's skin, following the shapes and shadows of the soft spring sunshine, the lines and curves of muscle and bone, the invisible colours of his spirit.

Yohji slept, his slender body arranged carelessly on top of Ran's bed, lying not quite on his front, but not quite on his side, either, one arm curled under white pillow, impossibly long legs entwined in soft white sheets. He probably wasn't comfortable, although he looked it, and Ran drank in every detail, knowing that even in sleep Yohji couldn't keep still for long, and wanting to keep the image forever.

He was always surprised there weren't more scars marking that golden skin. For all his lanky vulnerability, Yohji was far tougher than he looked. All the same, there were too many. Ran could list many of them, those that were a reminder of a mission completed, a battle won. Or a life almost lost.

Without knowing it, he ran a hand briefly over his own belly, and his eyes flickered shut for a second. He became suddenly aware of the warmth flooding through the window, the first time that year that the sun had felt warm on his face. No wonder Yohji was basking, the heat soaking skin and muscle more used to night than day.

Yohji's hair fell across his face a little, and down to his shoulders in waves. It had grown back darker than before, or maybe he'd always dyed it; Aya hadn't paid attention to such things until he'd had to colour his own, and by then Yohji had adopted the ludicrous daffodil yellow that even Aya recognised as bottle-bought.

Ran vividly remembered the day Yohji had come home with his hair finally trimmed of the last vestiges of blonde. He'd felt unreasonably happy, as if Yohji himself had finally come back to him, in all his sexy, annoying, slacking, devoted, tortured glory. Which, eventually, he did.

More or less.

He still drove Ran insane with his teasing and flirting, smoked incessantly and refused to listen to reason. He still wore far too little far to well.

He still had the nightmares.

He didn't drink as often, and, of course, there weren't the women anymore. He even worked a little harder than he used to when they were in Japan, although he didn't have much choice while there were just the two of them. He rarely went out at night alone, although he still stayed up late and slept 'til noon whenever he got the choice.

He was once again, unquestionably, Kudoh Yohji.

"Ran…mwfghhga…" He mumbled in his sleep; the sound of his real name startled Ran out of his thoughts, for a moment. It wouldn't be long, before Yohji was awake and complaining, and the vision would be gone. And he had to be sure he'd remember it, this rare, precious peace with the man he loved, whom he'd thought over an over again to have lost, but who, somehow, always came back to him.

When he'd first stormed back into Ran's life this time, he'd seemed older, strangely contaminated by conventional living, like an over-domesticated house cat - Ran took a moment to enjoy that analogy, storing it up to share next time Yohji irritated the life out of him - a mere shade of the languorous, sultry Balinese. But it came back, bit by bit; he slipped out of the grey cocoon of an ordinary life that had nothing to do with Ran or Yohji. The everyday worries focused sharply into extraordinary ones, the simple pleasures translated to pure hedonism, and Ran found himself back under the familiar doe-eyed gaze that made him want to frown and melt and laugh all at once.

When they'd made love again for the first time, the transformation became complete. As they held each other afterwards, flushed, panting and more than a little uncomfortable in the back of Ran's Porsche, Yohji had kissed him and claimed him yet again, and he'd looked beautiful. And happy. And annoyingly smug.

There was a hint of a breeze drifting through the window with the rich golden light now; evening wasn't far off. Ran continued to watch Yohji sleep, noting the more frequent twitches and stirrings of his body, until finally the long eyelashes fluttered open, and a pale arm stretched out over his head to the accompaniment of a loud yawn.

Ran flicked his eyes swiftly back to the book that lay, unread, in his lap.

"Evening, Kudoh."

Yohji shifted his limbs lethargically, propping his head up on one hand and squinting sideways at Ran. "Is it?" he yawned.

"You've been asleep more than an hour."

"Oh. Good." Yohji sounded unconscionably pleased with himself. "I think I lost an hour yesterday morning when you made me open the shop early."

"For the deliveries."

"Yeah. Something pointless. You been sat there the whole time?"

"I was reading," lied Ran. "Must've lost track of time."

"Oh. It's not that you were transfixed by the sight of my entrancing and seductive body, then?"

Ran got up from his chair with a snort and went to join Yohij on the bed. "Don't flatter yourself, Kudoh." He sat cross legged on the mattress, next to but not quite touching the naked flesh he'd been so engrossed with for the past hour or more.

Yohji curled an arm easily around Ran's waist, and pulled him closer. "Mmm, sun's warm," he murmured, "and so are you."

Ran couldn't resist reaching out to stroke the hair back from Yohji's shoulder, enjoying the feel of it all the more for the months it had been lacking. Yohji brushed his cheek against the back of Ran's hand, and all but purred.

It couldn't last forever like this, just the two of them, healing each other, leading normal lives. It never did. There would be Weiß again, Ran knew. He'd lost count of the times he'd thought it to be over, the 'last' missions, the leavings, the walking away. It never lasted. The four of them were linked, somehow, by fate, destiny, or more likely just by what they'd lived through together. But for now, it was just Yohji and Ran, this bed, this glorious afternoon.

"You look happy," said Yohji.

"Yes." Ran smiled, cupping Yohji's jaw in his hand. "I expect I do."

He leaned to kiss Yohji softly, the barest brush of lips, until Yohji opened his mouth a little further and darted his tongue out to play around Ran's, exploring, tasting, teasing. Ran touched Yohji's sun-kissed skin with the slightest glance of his fingertips, trailing down his side to his waist, lingering over hip before skimming to his thigh.

Yohji rolled over onto his back, pulling Ran on top of him, holding the kiss. He slid one hand smoothly inside the red-head's shirt, murmuring contentment.

Ran supported himself on strong arms, and raised his head to look into Yohji's eyes, savouring the connection he felt there.

"I could get used to days like this," Yohji raised a hand, gently brushing Ran's hair from his face. "Sex, cigarette, shower, sleep, more sex, cigarette, shower, food, cigarette, sex _in_ the shower, more sleep…"

"And?"

"What?" he turned his attention to an eartail, twisting it into a spiral with one dextrous finger.

"That's today so far. What does your obscenely hedonistic body demand next?"

"That depends," Yohji flared the ends of the twined eartail with his thumb, and dared to tickle Ran's nose with the soft brush. "How sore are you?"

"Hn." Ran glared at him, snapping his teeth after Yohji's insolent fingers. "The question should be, how sore are _you_?"

"I had you first," ventured Yohji.

"I had you hardest," countered Ran, his jeans suddenly far too tight.

"I had you last," grinned Yohji.

"Then it must be my turn," said Ran, with a little grin of triumph. "How d'you want it?"

Yohji grinned back.

"Now," he said, his fingertips moving very, very slowly to the sensitive flesh at Ran's waist.

"That's what I like to… gah! Yohji, no, tickles, fuck, Kudoh..." Ran cursed himself, firstly for being so ticklish, and secondly for ever, ever letting Yohji know it.

Yohji walked his fingers to rest innocently on Ran's spine. "You were saying something, love?"

"Shut up, Kudoh," he glared.

"Make me."

Ran roared, grasping Yohji's hands and holding them above his head, pale wrist over pale wrist. Yohji laughed, his lean body flexing under the restraint, so Ran had to kiss him roughly, just to keep his own stern façade from cracking.

It worked; Ran captured Yohji's full attention along with his willing lips and tongue, and started to take some measure of revenge, taking the kiss long, moving his mouth sensuously over Yohji's until they were both breathless.

"That's better," he whispered, as Yohji's eyes fluttered open, his lips slightly parted but silent, for once. He released Yohji's arms, pulling one hand to his lips to be kissed, licking across the pale band that marked the place where his watch had kept the sun from his skin. "You taste good," he said, continuing to lick up Yohji's arm to the inside of his elbow, lingering there for a few kisses and nibbles before continuing, distracted next by a puckered nipple, circling delicate flesh with the tip of his tongue…

"God, Ran…"

He still got a warm feeling in his belly when Yohji used his real name. He would be Aya again soon enough, and be forced to put away Ran's lighter, easier life. But not yet.

Yohji was undoing the buttons of Ran's shirt, sliding it slowly off his shoulders, his eyes feasting on naked, ivory skin, emerging so beautifully from dark green silk. He trailed fingers more firmly over the sensitive flesh this time, down the ridges of Ran's spine, stopping in the graceful dip just before his ass, where he met tight black denim. Then Ran's lips were on his again, hungrier now, stealing Yohji's breath and making his heart pound in his chest.

But Ran wasn't in any hurry. He continued to explore Yohji's body between hot, wet kisses, using tongue, fingers, the velvety soft tip of his nose, even trailing his sacred eartails across Yohji's belly, close enough to his cock as to tease. Then suddenly Yohji wasn't being touched anymore; Ran was standing next to the bed, and slowly, slowly undoing the buttons of his jeans, one by one, watching Yohji's face all the while. Yohji groaned softly.

For someone who liked to be direct about things, he sure knew how to tease.

"Here," Yohji growled, pulling himself on all fours to the edge of the bed. Gripping Ran by the back of his thighs, he nuzzled inside the now-open jeans to find the head of Ran's cock emerging from cotton underwear. Yohji caressed with soft lips, dipping the pointed tip of his tongue into the leaking slit, tugging Ran's jeans down to his knees in one swift move. He ran his fingers back up naked thighs, pulling the elastic of Ran's underwear down with careful teeth to expose more of his cock, long and slender, elegantly curved towards his navel. Yohji luxuriated in the taste of precious skin, sending Ran's underwear the same way as his jeans with steady hands. He licked from root to tip, watching Ran throw his head back with a soft cry, fingers tangled in Yohji's hair, massaging his skull with tense thumbs, freezing as Yohji swallowed him whole.

"Yoh-ji…"

Yohji let his eyes slide shut, holding the moment, throat open, tongue nestling along the length of Ran's cock, slack and wet. He gripped Ran's hips and rocked them, telling him to thrust, but Ran stood firm and refused to move, his fingers moving on Yohji's scalp again, gentle now. Yohji pulled back a little and opened his eyes to see Ran looking down at him, lower lip trapped between his teeth, the barest whimper escaping with his breath.

Yohji waited, holding those intense violet eyes with his, until Ran gave a sparse nod. Then he slowly slid his mouth back and forth, not so deep, leaving room for his tongue to move, settling to a rhythm that made Ran's hips rock in time. He dipped his hands to slide fingers down the crack of Ran's ass, teasing the delicate flesh of his anus, and then began to hum…

"Fuck, Yohji!" Ran pushed him away, gasping. He took in Yohji's somewhat smug expression. His eyes narrowed. "I know what you're trying to do, Kudoh, and it won't work."

"Really?" Yohji smirked and sat back on his heels, wiping wet and friction-swollen lips with the back of one hand. "I thought it was working rather well."

"I'm going to fuck you. It's my turn. Your turn... something." Ran struggled to control his breathing. "Where's the lube?"

Yohji laughed. "How should I know? Round here somewhere."

Ran glared at him briefly before he set to rummaging through the sheets.

Yohji watched him, revelling in the sight of the pale, lean body moving on white linen, sinewy muscles writhing under soft skin. He let him search for a little while before he reached under the pillow he'd been sleeping on.

"This what you're after?" he dangled the fat tube under Ran's nose.

"You knew it was there all along," Ran snarled, snatching it from him.

Yohji shrugged. "It just came back to me," he grinned. "You look so cute when you're mad."

"Cute?!" Ran tackled him swiftly to his back, trapping his hard cock under one hip and kissing him savagely. "I'll give you fucking cute," he murmured.

Yohji gave himself up, then, a keening noise in the back of his throat as he stretched out under Ran's body, shifting to seek out Ran's cock with his own, pressing against it.

"I should make you beg," Ran muttered, lifting himself up on strong arms, his hips grinding against Yohji's, seemingly of their own accord.

Yohji's eyes flickered open, only the faintest trace of smirk in them as he said: "fuck me, lover. Fuck me now." A beat, while he held Ran's gaze with his, his eyes big and vivid green, the faintest flush of pink across delicate cheekbones. Faintly, impossibly, vulnerable. "Please."

Ran growled softly in his chest, and dipped his head to kiss, teasing as best he could when he wanted this man so much it hurt, from the lump in his throat to the ache in his balls. He ran one hand over Yohji's slender flesh, over sharp angles of ribs and hip, hard muscle of belly and thigh, soft join of limb to body; his tongue deep in Yohji's mouth, tasting cigarettes, coffee, Yohji, the flavours that took him straight back to the mission room in the Koneko, handfuls of years and thousands of miles away.

Yohji was breathing hard now, quiet, calm before the storm. Ran rolled off him, taking Yohji's cock in curled fingers, pulling his foreskin back and gripping the base as Yohji lifted his hips to the caress. Long fingers smoothed through soft brown curls, massaging gently past over-sensitive scrotum to the frail skin beneath. Ran leaned to nuzzle Yohji's cock and balls with his nose as he drenched fingers with lube and stroked in tempting spirals around the puckered hole beneath. Yohji remained silent, but the eager tilt of his hips begged for Ran better than words. Ran held his fingers still, and let Yohji impale himself with his own impatient thrusts, then held him flat, one hand splayed on Yohji's hip, while he spread the lube around inside, deliberately avoiding the nub of firm flesh that was begging to be touched.

"Ran… please…"

Ran allowed himself a tiny smile.

"Patience, Yohji. I don't want to hurt you…"

"Fuck, Ran, I'm not some uptight virgin, you know."

Ran slowly withdrew his fingers, and turned his attention to slathering his own cock, casting a look at Yohji's face from the corner of his eye.

"No, but you're bound to be sore from last time."

Yohji snorted indignantly, but before he could think of a new comeback, Ran was between his thighs, hitching one slender leg over his shoulder, bending the other back at the knee. He paused to tease Yohji's entrance with the tip of his cock, watching him writhe in anticipation.

"Ran, if you don't get inside me soon I'll…"

Ran didn't wait to find out, sinking himself slowly inside Yohji's yielding flesh with a long sigh. That was the only thing about teasing, he thought, as Yohji's hands snaked to his butt, pulling him further inside when he'd been about to pause, it works both ways…

This was better than anything, being surrounded by slick, tight flesh, watching the flutter of Yohji's pulse at his throat, golden skin alive and wanting Ran so badly. He started to move, taking a few deep luxurious strokes to set a lazy rhythm, a pace suited for the golden evening light, the writhing sensuality of the body joined to his. Not the frantic, anguished post-mission sex, not the intense sex of high emotion, guilt or fear or pain; this was languid, indulgent, slow, deep, hot and tight and irresistible. Oh, _fuck_ but it was irresistible…

"Just like that," Yohji was keening softly, his eyes open, drinking in the beauty of Aya on top of him, intense violet eyes brooding from behind crimson bangs, his lips parted, tongue pressing against his teeth. "Oh, God, Ran, but that's so good…"

Ran gave a little smile, turned to kiss the delicate bone of Yohji's ankle, resisting the inevitable pressure that was starting to build in his gut. He reached down and started to stroke Yohji's cock, loving the way it felt in his hand, different from his own in it's heft and feel and rhythm, but just as silky-soft and iron-hard.

"Oh fuck… damn that's good…"

The pressure was getting too much now. Ran could feel his balls start to tighten, pulling up into his body; he paused, buried deep, felt Yohji's insides clamp down on him hard as he came in long streams across his own lean flesh. His mouth was open, head thrust back, and Ran was transfixed by the first line of pearly white that ran from lip to chin. He released Yohji's legs to wrap around his body as he leaned to taste, to lick bitter nectar from golden skin, from chin to lip and ending in a kiss. Yohji gasped, still shuddering with pleasure as Ran's flesh met his, silky slick with come. Ran stroked inside him once more, twice, and the third time he whispered "Yohji…" in his lover's ear and came.

The world went black for a moment, still quiet like the moment before death that Aya knew too well for comfort, and roared back into vivid, pulsing life, warm and wrapped in golden, sun-warm limbs.

They lay together for a long while, heartbeats pounding solid reassurance against each others' bodies, until eventually Ran withdrew his softening cock and collapsed onto his back, pulling Yohji snug into his side, head on his shoulder, and kissed his soft, brown hair.

Somewhere, a long way off, a telephone rang, but they both ignored it. The sun was setting, last rays of light dappling healing bodies pink and cream.

Yohji grunted as he draped one thigh over Ran's. "Hungry now," he muttered.

Ran smiled indulgently. "What, no cigarette?"

"Well, yeah. I thought I might have one while you go fetch me something to eat."

"Hn."

"Or I might just have a nap," he yawned.

"It's nearly dark. You ought to get up."

"Don't be stupid. What's to get up for?"

Ran couldn't think of an answer to that.

"Don't call me stupid, Kudoh."

There was a pause.

"You heard the phone?" Yohji's serious voice.

"Yes."

"It's going to start again, soon."

"Yes."

"It'll change things," he kissed the oft-abused muscle of Ran's shoulder.

"Yes," Ran admitted. "But we'll cope. Just promise me one thing, Yohji?"

Yohji looked up at him, emerald eyes concerned. "What, love?"

"Never cut your hair short again."

Yohji laughed. "Promise," he said. "Now, are you going to get me food?"

"No."

"Cig.?"

"No."

"You don't love me. If you loved me you'd feed me better."

"Hn."

Ran lay with Yohji softly complaining in his arms, familiar, friendly irritation rising with every unreasonable demand his lover made.

"If you don't get me cigarettes or food, I'll have to find something else to put in my mouth…"

Kudoh Yohji was back, and life was, for this rare moment, good.


End file.
